


oh, to be alone with you

by risenkingchrom



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cape Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Scars, Self-Insert, Sharing a Bed, Stitches, Stitches Removal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26000146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risenkingchrom/pseuds/risenkingchrom
Summary: “Do you think you’d ever want to learn how to do something like this?” she asked, trying to distract him. Dimitri chuckled, eyes still focused on Isabelle’s steady hands. “While I’ve gotten a bit better, I still do not think I’m suited for such delicate work,” he paused, “and besides... I like this.”Under different circumstances his comment would seem strange, but she understood his underlying meaning: “I like seeing the focused look in your eye, the methodical movement of your hands,” and most importantly, “I like that I’ve changed.”Isabelle and Dimitri finally have a calm moment alone within the chaos of the war.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	oh, to be alone with you

**Author's Note:**

> at first I was just imagining a vague fluff scenario about Dimitri's cape, then it somehow evolved into me making a whole 3h oc and writing probably one of the most self-indulgent things ever created lmao enjoy

Isabelle hummed quietly as she rifled through her collection of tinctures, trying to find the exact ones she needed. Almost two weeks ago, Dimitri had been injured in a skirmish against Imperial troops. The wound wasn’t life-threatening, but still required cautious care and numerous stitches. Today, Dimitri asked her to remove them—though really any of the healers at the monastery could complete the task just as well. 

Isabelle, of course, accepted. She enjoyed the calm routine that medical work brought and, in this case, the quiet intimacy it offered with Dimitri. 

The importance of their war duties meant that they could hardly have a spare moment for themselves, let alone each other. The war had spread them both thin, the ever-present strategy meetings and wounded soldiers in need of care caused them to seek one another out in the small pockets of time they could manage. For the past moon they had just enough time for short conversations during mealtimes and fleeting kisses in empty monastery corridors. It was tiring, and they were both thankful for this moment of reprieve.

While she continued her search, Dimitri was patiently waiting on the edge of Isabelle’s bed, taking in the scenery of her small room. He had visited her quarters a handful of times prior to this, but none of the encounters had ever lasted for very long. As a result, he still wasn’t used to how much of her was present in the small space. 

Dimitri’s eye wandered to the various herbs growing on the windowsill and drying on the walls, their presence making a pleasant floral scent flow throughout the room. The fragrance always stuck to Isabelle’s clothing and never failed to calm Dimitri whenever he came across it. 

Slightly smiling to himself at the thought, his attention shifted to the plethora of medical and magical equipment she kept. Her mildly disorganized shelves were full of various potions and balms meant to cure almost any ailment imaginable. The sheer number of them was almost puzzling. 

_Does she really have the time to use_ all _of them?_

“Ah! Found it,” Isabelle’s soft exclamation broke Dimitri out of his roaming thoughts. His gaze followed her as she made her way over to him, arms full of supplies.

She set her collection on the nightstand and moved to stand between Dimitri’s legs, “Alright, let's take these off.” 

Her hands reached for his shoulders and made quick work of removing Dimitri’s large cloak, letting it fall in a pool behind him. He followed her lead, his fingers working to undo the clasps attached to his gauntlets.

Despite his attempts to conceal the movement, his hands were slightly shaky as he attempted to loosen the buckles. He wasn’t yet accustomed to having someone so close and regarding him so gently, least of all Isabelle. Even after the time they’d shared since confessing, he was still a mess when it came to her.

He figured he always would be.

The pair continued to move in tandem to finish removing Dimitri’s armor. The small clinks of metal-on-metal as each piece hit the floor were the only sounds that filled the otherwise quiet room. 

When the final piece of armor was shed, Isabelle broke the silence between them with slight hesitation in her voice, “Now... your sweater.” Before Dimitri could respond, she quickly busied herself with organizing and sanitizing her tools, trying to give him a semblance of privacy. 

Isabelle’s suddenly apprehensive state was nonexistent in her usual procedures. Her method of care had always been straightforward, and she had seen far worse on other soldiers than a simple bare, unbloodied torso.

Excessive modesty was not a problem when it came to her medical work. However, this was completely new territory for the pair. She’d hardly seen Dimitri out of his armor, let alone without portions of clothing. 

Nevertheless, it wasn’t his state of undress that her mind was preoccupied with. 

Really, Isabelle was worried about the vulnerable position Dimitri placed himself in when he asked her to remove his stitches. Past encounters meant she was already privy to his hesitation in revealing his scars to her. She clearly recalled the time she’d offered to examine his eye a few moons prior. He hastily declined—something that seemed out of place at the time.

Eventually Dimitri confessed his, admittedly unfounded, fear of her being judgemental of the copious battle scars he possessed—the permanent reminders of his darkened past. 

Despite Isabelle’s own collection of scars and most sincere reassurances, he had yet to reveal them to her. Until today.

In a different time, the situation would simply be a mildly embarrassing encounter, quickly brushed off after a few awkward moments and shy glances. Though of course, their shared experiences over the past six years had tarnished that lighthearted possibility.

As Isabelle busied herself with cleaning a small pair of surgical scissors, Dimitri timidly removed the thick black sweater he wore under his armor. He shivered as his skin was revealed to the cold air of the room, almost tempted to pull his cloak around himself while Isabelle worked. However, she pulled over her wooden desk chair and placed herself in front of him before he could decide. 

Though they were directly facing one another, neither person dared to glance at their partner—unspoken words tense in the air between them. 

After what felt like an eternity, but was really only a few seconds, Isabelle was the first to look up. Her eyes finally took in the myriad number of scars littering Dimitri’s upper body. 

Some were more substantial than others, with the largest one being a jagged white streak across the left side of his ribs. Others, like the few crossing the backs of his hands, were extremely small, almost to the point of invisibility.

Dimitri sat still, expression neutral under Isabelle’s scrutinizing gaze. She gently grasped his scarred hand in her own, causing him to lock eyes with her. 

Slowly reaching up with her free hand, she lightly held his cheek, her thumb running just under the cloth of his eyepatch. Dimitri relaxed into her touch as his visible eye closed. He let out a small, contented sigh as she continued to caress his cheek.

She almost didn’t ask, but a short wave of boldness prompted her to murmur, “You don’t have to show me, but can I see this too?”

A beat passed, and Dimitri removed his hand from hers. Isabelle’s skin prickled and she retracted her hand, fearing she’d overstepped. 

Her panic immediately dissipated at the sight of Dimitri reaching up to untie the small piece of fabric. He slowly pulled the black patch away, finally revealing to her the damage beneath it. 

The scar was an uneven red, running diagonally from just under Dimitri’s brow bone to below the outer corner of his eye. The eye itself was still intact, the only visible damage a hint of cloudiness across his iris.

Isabelle inched closer, hand still raised, almost as if asking permission. He reassured her, “It’s alright if you wish to touch it. It’s no longer painful.”

Again, she rested her hand against his cheek. His eyes slowly closed, letting her have an unobstructed view. 

Using her thumb, she lightly grazed his eyelid. The scar was rough, and looked much larger now that she could see it in its entirety. 

“How did you get this?” she probed, wary of breaking the moment between them. Dimitri sighed, his voice wavering, “It happened shortly after my escape from imprisonment. A small group of Imperial soldiers overtook me, and one of their lances caught my eye before I was able to dodge it.”

Isabelle moved to grasp both of his hands in her own, trying her best to soothe him. This was the most he’d ever discussed his past injuries with her, and while she wanted to hear more, his feelings were her current priority.

“Thank you,” she said warmly, lacing their fingers together. 

Dimitri’s eyes opened in mild confusion, “You’re... thanking me?”

Isabelle smiled, “I am. I remember how uneasy you were before. So, thank you for trusting me.” 

“I’ll always trust you,” He confessed, expression softening. 

Her smile widened and she leaned forward, kissing Dimitri just under his right eye, “I’ll always trust you too.”

She hoped her action reflected what she couldn’t find the words to say. _I love you. Even through the moments you regret._

“Now, are you ready for me to work on this?” she asked, referring to the bandage still covering his shoulder. Dimitri’s expression widened in mild surprise, taken out of the moment, “Ah, right,” he chuckled at his reaction, “Yes. I am.” Her hands untangled from his, and she slowly began removing the tape holding his bandage in place. 

Isabelle worked calmly, the mood between her and Dimitri immediately soothed from their earlier apprehension. She fell easily into the well-practiced routine of sterilizing her hands and the wound, then smoothly cutting the small pieces of thread holding it together. 

Using her tweezers, she slowly began to pull each thin stitch from Dimitri’s skin. His face pulled into a slight grimace at the foreign feeling. 

“Sorry,” Isabelle murmured. 

“It’s alright. It’s just… strange.”

“Do you think you’d ever want to learn how to do something like this?” she asked, trying to distract him. Dimitri chuckled, eyes still focused on Isabelle’s steady hands. “While I’ve gotten a bit better, I still do not think I’m suited for such delicate work,” he paused, “and besides... I like this.” 

Under different circumstances his comment would seem strange, but she understood his underlying meaning: _“I like seeing the focused look in your eye, the methodical movement of your hands,”_ and most importantly, _“I like that I’ve changed.”_

At the start of the war, when he was plagued by survivor’s guilt more than ever, Dimitri would continuously refuse treatment for even the most dire of battle wounds. He would neglect his health until he was on the brink of collapse, forced to begrudgingly seek healing. Over time he became more comfortable with asking for help, something she was definitely thankful for. 

Isabelle smiled as she pulled out the final stitches, “I like this too.” 

She continued to work in silence, gently cleaning the now unsutured wound with a small cloth. Dimitri intently watched her deft fingers as they placed small adhesive strips to ensure the gash’s closure.

“You’ll need to be careful during training for a little while longer. I still don’t want you to risk it reopening,” she reminded him as she placed a fresh bandage. 

“I’ll do my best,” he teased, accustomed to her excessive worry for him. 

She gave him an amused look of mock disapproval and handed him a set of bandages, “And change your dressings at least once a day. Come to me or one of the other healers if it reopens or begins to look infected.” 

She stood, ready to put away her supplies, but a pair of arms stopped her. Dimitri’s grasp was lightly wrapped around her waist, loose enough to allow her to pull away if she wished. His face was hidden against her abdomen. 

“I’ve missed you,” he mumbled into her dress. 

She softened, her surprise quickly dissipated. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she hugged him more fully, kissing the crown of his head. 

“I‘ve missed you too. But I’m here now, Dimitri.” 

Dimitri tightened his hold, her earlier gesture making him bashful. “Would it be alright if I stayed with you tonight?” he asked. ”I wish to stay with you a little while longer.”

Isabelle reached down, gently turning his head to face her. She gazed softly down at him, amusement in her voice, “Is that even a question?” 

He averted his eyes, “Well, I didn’t want to be presumptuous and—“ She cut him off, “Of course you can stay. You always have a place here, you know”

He sighed, content, and rested his cheek against her again, “Thank you.”

It was then that Dimitri shivered, still affected by the chill of the room. Slightly releasing her hold, Isabelle reached for Dimitri’s cape and draped it over his bare shoulders, “Here.”

Without missing a beat, he reached to wrap her in the cloak as well, cocooning them together in its warmth. The pair remained in their close embrace, each of them soothed by the others proximity. 

“As much as I want to stay like this, I still need to clean up,” Isabelle said, voice muffled by Dimitri’s hair. Dimitri nestled further into her collarbone, reluctant to let her go. 

After a moment he finally pulled away, letting Isabelle move to gather her supplies. 

While she organized her impromptu workspace, Dimitri began removing the armor covering his lower body. They moved quickly, both of them impatient to be back in the other’s space. 

Dimitri completed his task first, and had just enough time to wrap himself back in his cloak before Isabelle followed suit.

Finally finished, she made her way from her crowded shelves back to Dimitri’s waiting form. He started uncrossing his arms, ready to be back in their previous embrace. 

Instead of meeting his invitation, she paused at the head of the bed frame and unlaced her boots. Dimitri gave her a mildly puzzled look as he watched her move past him and crawl onto the small bed. 

Laying down behind him, she held out her arms, “I know it’s not time for bed yet, but will you still rest with me for a bit?” 

He immediately turned to meet her waiting grasp and parroted her earlier words, “Is that even a question?”

“Very funny,” she happily retorted, pulling him in.

Dimitri laid his cape across them as a makeshift blanket, the fur-lined collar lightly tickling their skin.

They quickly found each other, their limbs tangling together as a side effect of the limited bed space and their mutual want to be as close as possible. 

“I know I said this before but, I’ve missed you, Belle. I’ve missed being with you. Uninterrupted, I mean.”

Isabelle pushed an untamed strand of hair from his face. “You know I feel the same, of course. At least...” she paused, choosing her words carefully. “When this is over we’ll have time.”

Neither of them wanted to think of the real implications of ending the war, or if they would even be successful in doing so. For that moment they ignored thoughts of opposing forces and the sorely needed reconstruction awaiting them after victory. 

They simply thought of having more moments like this. 

“I want that. More than you know.” 

Isabelle grinned and lightly pressed her lips against his, “I think I have an idea.”

The pair settled against their pillows, noses almost touching and eyes becoming lidded. Before they were completely pulled down by drowsiness, Dimitri broke the silence between them. 

“And about my scars...” 

Isabelle’s surprised gaze immediately met Dimitri’s calm one. She wasn’t expecting him to return to that subject so quickly. 

“Not all of them are shameful,” he continued. Isabelle watched his face with rapt attention, waiting to hear more.

Dimitri smiled wistfully, “There’s one on my back that I received during the tragedy.” He skimmed his hand along her spine, grounding himself. “Even though that was one of the most awful times of my life, one good thing came from it.”

Isabelle reached up and ran her fingers through the hair at Dimitri’s nape, attempting to soothe him. He relaxed under her touch. 

“That scar is the reminder of when I saved one of my dearest friends. It causes me to believe that maybe there’s a reason I’m here, whatever that reason may be.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Isabelle said softly, sincerely. 

Dimitri inched forward, gently kissing her, “After everything...I’m glad I’m here too.”

_It means I get more time with you._

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! this is the first work I've completed since I was on ff.net 8 years ago so don't be too harsh please skdfjskfj


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